LOVE  AND  TEA 


Price,  30  Cents 


>f  Californi 

Regional 

Facility 


WALTER  H.  BAKER  COMPANY 

BOSTON 


NEW  PLAYS  AND  BOOKS 

-  Season  1925  - 

ONE  ROOM.  PLUS    By  Elizabeth  Calder  &  Walter  Ben  Hare 

A  dramatic  comedy  in  three  acts.  Three  males  and  three 
females.  Scenery  a  single  easy  interior.  Plays  a  full  even- 
ing. This  laughable  play  blends  youthful  spirits  and  intense 
modernity  with  the  kindly  wisdom  of  the  previous  generation. 
Frank  Carmichael  is  trying  to  provide  Julia,  a  pleasure  loving 
wife,  with  city  life  and  freedom  from  household  care.  Their 
home  is  a  collection  of  mechanical  conveniences,  assembled 
in  a  combined  living,  dining,  and  sleeping  room,  plus  bath  and 
kitchenette.  Into  this  "ONE  ROOM  PLUS'rof  Fred  and 
Julia,  "Dad"  Carmichael  is  warmly  welcomed  for  a  visit.  He 
immediately  makes  himself  at  home  finding  the  top  of  the 
bath  tub  a  convenient  place  to  sleep.  John  Carmichael, 
Fred's  elder  brother,  and  his  wife,  call  on  "Dad"  and  criticise 
Julia's  extravagant  tastes  and  aspirations  and  their  influence 
on  Fred.  They  flaunt  their  economies  and  exhibit,  in  con- 
trast to  "ONE  ROOM,  PLUS,"  a  real  home  of  their  own  in 
the  suburbs.  "Dad's"  kindly  philosophy,  whimsical  wisdom, 
and  ability  to  see  both  sides,  brings  about  an  unexpected 
harmony.  Before  he  leaves  "ONE  ROOM,  PLUS,"  the 
recently  antagonistic  young  people  have  to  some  degree,  the 
aspect  of  a  mutual  admiration  party.  The  six  characters 
have  equally  prominent  parts.  That  of  "Dad"  Carmiehael 
with  its  shafts  of  homely  wit  will  become  classic. 

This  is  a  play  from  the  production  of  which  actors  and  au- 
diences alike  will  derive  keen  enjoyment.  Especially  recom- 
mended to  Little  Theatres  and  schools.  During  the  third  act 
the  characters  enact  their  own  story  as  it  would  appear  in  trie 
movies.  In  submitting  the  manuscript  of  this  play  to  a  mem- 
ber of  the  faculty  of  one  of  our  representative  schools,  the 
reply  came  back:  "This  is  the  best  naturalistic  play  that  I 
have  read  for  many  a  day.  The  play  reading  committee  of 
our  school  simply  went  wild  over  it  and  I  hope  that  you  will 
allow  us  to  give  the  premier  performance  in  this  part  of  the 
country."  Royalty  810.00.  Price,  50  cents. 

JON  By  Dorothy  O.  Savage 

This  is  one  of  the  strongest  and  most  touching  short  plays 
written  in  recent  years.  Laid  in  a  fisherman's  cottage  on  the 
bleak  and  stormy  Scottish  coast,  it  has  in  its  very  fibre  a 
touch  of  the  stress  of  the  storm-tossed  and  wind-swept  land. 
The  types  are  fisher  folk,  primitive  and  vivid,  and  its  tragic 
story  marches  relentlessly  to  its  inevitable  ending  with  'that 
simplicity  and  truthfulness  which  marks  real  drama  and  real 
literature.  Few  plays  of  the  day  will  be  found  more  impres- 
sive by  that  public  which  wishes  to  find  the  theatre  what  a 
well-known  critic  has  called  "an  adult  art."  Three  males,  three 
females.  Time  of  playing,  about  fortv  minutes.  Royalty,  each . 
performance,  $5.00.  Manuscript  only  50  cents  per  copy. 

BAKER'S  PLAYS,  BOSTON,  MASS. 

•]r^K-Kv^^]^L-Ti^^^i^^r)i'i^^^^^y^rv^y^^jryjrFy^y^ 


Love  and  Tea 


A  Comedy-Drama  of  Colonial 
Times  in  Two  Acts 


Written  at  the  instance  of  the  D.  A.  R. 


By 
ANNA  PHILLIPS  SEE 

Author  of  "  When  Women  ^ote"  etc. 


NOTE 

The  professional  and  moving  picture  rights  in  this  play  are 
strictly  reserved  and  application  for  the  right  to  produce  it 
should  be  made  to  the  author  in  care  of  the  publishers. 
Amateurs  may  produce  it  without  payment  of  royalty  on 
condition  that  the  name  of  the  author  appears  on  all  pro- 
grammes and  advertising  issued  in  connection  with  such 
performances. 


-FROM. 


THE    DRAMATIC    PUBLISHING    COMPANY 

CHICAGO 

Descriptive   catalogue   of   plays   sent   free   on   application 


Love  and  Tea 


CHARACTERS 

Miss  LAVINIA  BOLTWOOD,  a  despotic  spinster. 

BETTY  BOLTWOOD,  her  niece. 

MRS.  COWLES,  a  neighbor. 

MRS.  ADAMS,  a  neighbor. 

MRS.  STRONG,  the  village  gossip. 

MANDY,  slave  of  Miss  Boltwood. 

JUDGE  INGRAM,  a  middle-aged  bachelor  of  mild  Tory  sentiment 

WILLIAM  DICKINSON,  a  fiery  young  Minn  tern  an. 

SYNOPSIS 

ACT  I. — Place,  the  living-room  of  a  comfortable  village  home. 
Time,  April  1775,  a  few  days  after  the  Battle  of  Lexington. 
ACT  II. — Place,  the  same. 
Time,  June  1775,  not  long  after  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  PLAY 

Miss  Boltwood,  a  despotic  spinster,  is  persuaded  to  join  a  band 
of  ladies  who  have  sworn  to  give  up  tea  and  all  taxed  articles  till 
the  Revolutionary  War  is  over.  The  tea  habit  is  too  strong  for 
Miss  Boltwood  and  she  drinks  it  secretly.  Her  niece,  Betty,  dis- 
covers this  and  uses  the  information  to  compel  her  aunt  to  consent 
to  her  (Betty's)  engagement  to  the  young  minuteman,  William 
Dickinson. 

Miss  Boltwood  also  has  a  lover,  the  Tory,  Judge  Ingram,  whom 
she  has  kept  dangling  for  years.  When  he  joins  the  Patriot  cause 
and  she  hears  the  (false)  report  that  he  has  been  arrested  as  a  spy, 
she  champions  him  and  finds  that  she  loves  him  ;  she  becomes  an 
ardent  Patriot  also — all  this  just  as  he  has  decided  that  \h€\r friend- 
ship is  ideal !  Mandy,  who  is  a  privileged  character,  furnishes 
much  fun. 


COPYRIGHT,  1915,  BY  ANNA  PHILLIPS  SEE 
As  author  and  proprietor 

All  rights  reserved. 


Love  and  Tea 


ACT  I 

SCENE. — The  living-room  of  Miss  BOLTWOOD'S  home.  There 
are  doors  to  L.  and  R.,  a  closed  window  near  R.,  a  fireplace 
with  fire  near  c.  and  over  it  a  cupboard  that  locks ;  a  tea 
table,  four  straight  chairs,  a  high  winged  chair  or  settle,  a 
mirror,  furnishings  of  a  colonial  tea  table,  a  black  cat 
(toy},  etc. 

(MANDV  is  discovered  on  stage.     She  pokes  fire,  looks  into 
kettle,  stumbles  over  cat  by  the  hearth.} 

MANDY.  Dere's  dat  cat  agin  !  Here  you,  Salem,  git  out 
from  under  Mandy's  feet  'fore  I  break  my  neck  or  yours  ! 
Black  imp  o'  Satan  !  (The  cat  is  supposed  to  spit.)  He  spits  ! 
I  pray  you,  spit  not  at  poor  old  Mandy,  please,  Mr.  Cat !  Oh, 
you  looks  a  very  witch  cat !  Good  Salem  !  Good  pussy  ! 

(Pets  the  cat.) 

Enter   BETTY   BOLTWOOD    in   afternoon  dress  but  with  an 
apron  on. 

BETTY.  Mandy,  aunt  bids  you  assist  me  with  the  porcelain 
against  the  tea-drinking  this  afternoon.  Fetch  the  linen  towel 
and  the  tray. 

MANDY.     Yes,  missy.     Here  dey  is. 

(MANDY  gets  towel  and  tray  and  she  and  BETTY  wipe  the 
dishes  and  arrange  them  on  the  tea  table. ) 

BETTY  (holding  up  cream  pitcher).  I  like  well  this  tea  set, 
Mandy.  'Twas  a  most  pleasing  gift  that  aunt's  cousin  fetched 
her  from  China.  She  surely  hath  a  vast  love  for  tea.  'Tis 
almost  a  carnal  weakness  ! 


2072766 


<J.  LOVE    AND    TEA 

MANDY.  True,  missy.  You'  aunt  do  love  tea  most  'strava- 
gantly,  an'  cats  too  !  ( Looks  scornfully  at  SALEM.  )  A  true 
sign  she  will  never  marry.  But  Missy  Boltwood  am  so  sperity 
de  mens  am  'fraid  of  her,  mebbe. 

BETTY  (as  they  set  the  table}.  Aunt  is  too  strong-willed 
and — and — managing  to  obey  any  man.  Heard  you  not  that 
when  a  girl  she  was  betrothed  to  Judge  Ingram,  but  could  not 
abide  the  thought  of  marriage  ? 

MANDY.  Lawsy,  Miss  Betty  1  An'  such  friends  as  dey  is, 
too  !  De  Judge  am  a  Tory.  Is  dat  de  reason  Missy  Boltwood 
ain't  no  patriarch  like  mos'  of  de  Hartfield  ladies  ? 

BETTY.  Nay,  Mandy,  'tis  because  aunt  lived  so  many  years 
in  England.  She  thinks  there  need  be  no  quarrel  between  the 
Colonies  and  the  king.  Could  she  but  hear  William  Dickinson 
defend  the  cause  of  our  independence 

(There  is  the  sound  of  a  wagon  driven  rapidly.     MANDY 
runs  to  the  window  dish  in  hand.} 

MANDY.  Why,  dere's  you'  William  Dickinson  now,  a-dashin' 
by  in  de  wagon  I 

BETTY  (darting  also  to  the  window}.  Where?  I  see  only 
dust.  Looked  he  not  up  at  the  window,  Mandy  ? 

MANDY.  No,  Miss  Betty.  He  was  racin'  dose  colts  over 
de  groun'  ! 

BETTY  (pouting).     And  we  have  not  met  in  two  long  days  ! 

MANDY  (earnestly).  Miss  Betty,  if  you'  aunt  knew  how 
lovery  you  is  wid  dat  William  Dickinson,  she  would  prison  you 
in  you'  chamber.  You  know  well  she  can't  'bide  de  Dickin- 
sons 'count  of  de  old  quarrel  'tween  de  famblies. 

BETTY.  True,  but  naught  can  be  said  against  William.  He 
is  the  bravest  and  handsomest  minuteman  in  the  company, 
and 

MANDY.     Sh,  missy  !     I  hears  you'  aunt  on  de  stairs. 

Enter  Miss  LAVINIA  BOLTWOOD,  handsomely  gowned. 

Miss  B.  Cease  your  chattering,  Mandy.  Fetch  me  the 
egg  cakes  and  the  macaroons  from  the  great  cupboard. 

[Exit  MANDY. 

BETTY.  With  your  permission,  aunt,  I  will  go  abroad  to 
take  the  air.  'Tis  too  beauteous  a  day  to  remain  within. 

(Takes  off  her  apron."} 


LOVE    AND    TEA  5 

Miss  B.  Then  I  pray  you  go  down  to  the  Meadow  Road 
and  buy  me  some  sage  cheese  from  Mrs.  Abiel  Dickinson. 
Should  you  chance  to  see  young  William,  chatter  not  with  him. 
'Tis  not  seemly  for  maidens  to  talk  overmuch  with  men. 

Enter  MANDY  with  a  plate  of  cakes  in  each  hand.  She  stands 
listening  with  the  plates  slanted  so  that  the  cakes  are  in 
danger  of  falling  off.  She  now  grins  knowingly  at  BETTY 
behind  Miss  B.'s  back. 

BETTY  (demurely).  I  will  heed  your  counsel,  aunt.  'Twill 
be  best  to  wear  my  new  bonnet.  The  old  one  is  sadly  shabby. 

(Exit  BETTY,  who  returns  in  a  moment  and  puts  her  bonnet 
on  before  the  mirror.) 

Miss  B.  Mandy,  you  stupid,  lay  down  the  plates  and  put 
the  teapot  to  warm. 

MANDY  (putting  teapot  on  the  hearth).  Is  you  goin'  to 
give  old  Mandy  jess  a  leetle  tea  to-day,  missy?  I  knows  tea 
is  powerful  'spensive.  Why  so,  missy  ? 

Miss  B.  Because  the  Parliament  taxes  tea.  Have  you  no 
remembrance  of  the  Boston  Tea  Party,  more  than  a  year  agone, 
when  the  tea  was  thrown  overboard  in  Boston  Harbor? 

MANDY.  Yes,  missy,  I  recommembers,  an'  lots  of  lady 
patriarchs  stopped  drinkin'  tea  den.  Missy  Abiel  Dickinson 
she  drink  "Liberty  Tea,"  an1  I  helps  her  pick  de  raspberry 
leaves  las'  summer 

(Knocker  sounds.*) 

Miss  B.  There  is  the  knocker,  Mandy.  Do  you  attend  the 
door.  (Exit  MANDY.  She  ushers  in  MRS.  STRONG,  MRS. 
COWLES  and  MRS.  ADAMS.)  Good-afternoon,  Mrs.  Strong; 
good-afternoon,  Mrs.  Cowles ;  good-afternoon,  Mrs.  Adams.  I 
hope  I  see  you  all  well. 

MRS.  S.  I  am  in  my  usual  state  of  good  health,  thank  you, 
Miss  Bolt  wood. 

MRS.  C.  Save  for  a  slight  rheum,  I  am  enjoying  the  bless- 
ing of  health,  thank  you. 

MRS.  A.  Thank  you  kindly,  Miss  Boltwood,  I  am  as  well 
as  can  be  expected. 

Miss  B.  Lay  aside  your  cloaks,  ladies.  Mandy,  assist  the 
ladies. 

(They  remove  their  wraps.) 


6  LOVE    AND    TEA 

MRS.  S.  Did  I  not  see  your  niece  Betty  flitting  through  the 
lane  as  I  came  by  ? 

Miss  B.  It  may  be.  I  sent  her  on  an  errand  to  Mrs.  Abiel 
Dickinson's.  "Fis  a  safe  walk  to  the  Meadow  Road. 

(She  moves  to  the  fireplace  and  makes  the  tea.} 

MRS.  S.  (looking  meaningly  at  the  others).  Laws-a-massy  ! 
Is  she  throwing  the  girl  at  William's  head? 

MRS.  A.  Sh  !  She  does  not  know  how  enamored  the  young 
people  are.  When  she  learns  it — poor  Betty  ! 

Miss  B.  (turning  from  the  fireplace].  I  pray  you,  ladies,' 
draw  up  to  the  table  ere  the  tea  be  cold.  ( They  seat  them- 
selves. MANDY  brings  the  teapot  and  places  it  before  Miss  B. 
MANDY  looks  longingly  at  the  tea,  sniffs  it,  and  licks  her  lips 
behind  their  backs.  The  ladies  pour  the  tea  into  their  saucers 
and  blow  it  noisily,  crooking  their  little  fingers  as  they  raise 
the  saucers  to  their  lips.  At  a  sign  from  Miss  B.,  MANDY 
exits.}  'Tis  a  pity  I  have  none  of  my  rose  conserve  to  give 
you.  I  sent  it  all  to  my  friends  in  England  by  the  Christmas 
packet. 

MRS.  S.  Your  conserve  is  marvelous,  Miss  Bolt  wood.  The 
receipt  is  a  secret,  I  presume. 

Miss  B.  A  family  heirloom,  Mrs.  Strong.  Pray  tell  me, 
ladies,  if  the  tea  be  sufficiently  brewed.  1  can  assure  you  'tis 
prime  Bohea  and  no  "  Liberty  Tea  "  ! 

(She  laughs  a  little  scornfully. ) 

MRS.  C.  'Tis  of  an  elegant  strength  and  'tis  an  elegant  tea. 
I  feel  certain  no  duty  was  paid  on  it.  Was  it  honestly  smug- 
gled, my  dear  Miss  Boltwood  ? 

(All  laugh.} 

Miss  B.  Indeed  it  was,  and  through  Judge  Ingram  too. 
A  poor  Tory  he  ! 

MRS.  A.  Mayhap  the  good  man  will  become  a  patriot  in 
time.  {Helps  herself  to  a  cake.} 

MRS.  S.  We  ought  to  scorn  to  use  anything  taxed,  as  the 
king  hath  used  the  Colonies  so  unjustly  !  Still,  'twould  be  a 
hardship  to  give  up  the  tea. 

Miss  B.  Well,  I  am  neither  Tory  nor  patriot ;  so  I  drink 
smuggled  tea,  and  shall  drink  it  till  I  am  under  better  advise- 
ment. Pray  take  of  the  candied  cherries,  Mrs.  Strong.  May 
I  fill  your  cup,  Mrs.  Cowles?  (The  knocker  sounds.  MANDY 


LOVE    AND    TEA  J 

passes  through  from  L.  to  R.  She  ushers  in  JUDGE  INGRAM, 
who  carries  a  newspaper.  All  rise  and  curtsey.)  Good- 
afternoon,  Stephen  Ingram. 

JUDGE.  Good-afternoon,  Miss  Lavinia.  Pray  do  not  let  me 
interrupt  your  tea-drinking,  ladies.  I  but  stopped  in  passing 
to  leave  Miss  Boltwood's  Boston  Gazette.  The  news  is  recent- - 
but  four  days  old — and  of  great  moment.  {He  opens  the  paper. ) 
The  Provincial  Congress  at  Lexington  is  adjourned.  'Tis  said 
General  Gage  is  resolved  to  crush  the  rebellion.  (Ladies  show 
excitement.)  He  has  now  in  Boston  four  thousand  disciplined 
men.  I  fear  me  there  will  be  war,  long  and  bloody,  before  our 
king  is  master  once  more. 

MRS.  C.     Master  !     Never  again  in  these  colonies  ! 

(The  ladies  rise  in  indignation.^) 

MRS.  S.  Our  minutemen  will  match  with  any  British 
soldiers  ! 

MRS.  A.  We  women  can  assist  our  men,  if  it  comes  to  a  war 
against  injustice  ! 

JUDGE  (laughing').  Ladies,  ladies  !  Such  ardent  patriots, 
and  yet  drinking  tea  ! 

MRS.  A.  {firmly}.  If  war  is  coming  and  our  men  must 
fight,  I,  too,  can  make  some  sacrifice.  I  will  give  up  tea  and 
all  taxed  articles. 

MRS.  S.     And  I ! 

MRS.  C.  I,  too  !  Come,  Miss  Boltwood,  join  our  league. 
It  shall  be  named  from  your  house  where 'twas  born,  "The 
Boltwood  Band."  Come,  now. 

Miss  B.     Nay,  I  am  no  patriot. 

ALL.     Come,  come;  no  denial. 

(They  join  hands  and  place  hers  in  theirs.") 

MRS.  C.  This  shall  be  our  oath :  "  We  swear  to  give  up  tea 
and  all  taxed  articles  till  the  war  be  over."  Now,  in  unison. 

ALL  (including  Miss  B.).  We  swear  to  give  up  tea  and  all 
taxed  articles  till  the  war  be  over. 

(JUDGE  looks  on  amused.) 

JUDGE  (rising  ).  Well,  ladies,  now  that  you  are  all  com- 
mitted to  raspberry  leaves  and  linsey-woolsey,  1  will  go.  (There 
is  the  sound  of  a  galloping  horse,  then  excited  voices  of  men. 
All  rise  and  go  to  the  window.)  'Tis  an  express.  Look  you, 


8  LOVE    AND    TEA 

his  horse  is  smoking  !     There  must  be  news  from  Boston.     I 
will  go  and  learn  it,  then  report  to  you.  [Exit. 

MRS.  A.     Oh,  I  pray  there  has  been  no  bloodshed  ! 

MRS.  S.     If  blood  has  been  shed,  let  us  hope  'twas  British  ! 

(MANDY  rushes  in  from  L.,  greatly  excited.     She  looks  over 
the  shoulders  of  the  ladies  at  the  window.') 

Miss  B.  (sharply).     Mandy  !     Get  you  to  the  kitchen  ! 

[Exit  MANDY,  at  L. 

Enter  JUDGE,  at  R.     He  looks  very  grave. 

JUDGE.  'Tis  as  I  feared.  The  rash  minutemen  have  fired 
on  the  king's  troops  and  war  has  begun.  Day  before  yesterday 
there  was  a  fight  at  Lexington  and  Concord 

MRS.  S.     Tell  us,  man  !     Who  was  victorious  ? 

JUDGE.  The  rebels  stood  their  ground,  'tis  reported,  and 
the  king's  troops  retreated,  but  not  because  of  defeat 

MRS.  C.     Did  the  Regulars  retreat  to  Boston  ? 

JUDGE.  Yes,  and  I  fear  it  was  a  rout  at  the  last.  Owing 
to  the  firing  of  the  rebels  from  behind  walls  and  trees,  the  Brit- 
ish became  panic-stricken. 

MRS.  S.  (excitedly).  Hurroo  for  our  brave  men !  'Tis 
glorious  that  they  routed  the  trained  troops  ! 

Miss  B.  But  why  did  the  fighting  begin  out  at  Lexington, 
Stephen?  'Tis  a  good  ten  miles  from  Boston. 

JUDGE.  General  Gage  was  hoping  to  destroy  the  ammuni- 
tion at  Concord.  In  some  way  his  plan  was  learned,  and  Paul 
Revere,  the  goldsmith,  rode  all  night  warning  the  countryside. 
When  the  Regulars  came,  the  minutemen  were  ready. 

MRS.  A.   (compassionately).     Did  many  men  fall? 

JUDGE.  'Tis  reported  a  hundred  minutemen  and  nearly 
three  hundred  of  the  king's  troops. 

MRS.  S.  Well,  thanks  for  that !  Each  minuteman,  it  seems, 
convoyed  three  Britishers  with  him  out  of  existence  ! 

MRS.  A.     My  dear  Mrs.  Strong  !     Feel  you  no  pity  ? 

JUDGE  (listening).  The  Hartfield  minutemen  are  sum- 
moned to  assemble  at  orice  at  Clapp's  Tavern.  Methinks  I  hear 
the  drums. 

MRS.  C.  I  must  needs  return  home  with  the  news,  Miss 
Boltwood.  I  thank  you  for  a  very  elegant  tea. 

Miss  B.  As  'tis  your  last  for  the  present,  I  am  glad  it 
pleased  your  taste. 


LOVE    AND    TEA  9 

MRS.  S.  (rising).  Forget  not  your  vow,  ladies.  'Tis  for 
our  hostess  to  uphold  the  "  Boltwood  Band." 

Miss  B.  I  have  passed  my  word,  and  shall  keep  it.  I 
never  break  a  promise.  (Ladies  curtsey.)  Farewell,  ladies. 
(Exeunt  MRS.  C.,  MRS.  A.  and  MRS.  S.)  I  fear  me, 
Stephen,  troublous  times  are  before  us,  and  there  is  a 
matter  I  would  discuss  with  you.  Should  the  war  prove 
serious  I  may  return  to  England.  I  would  Betty  were 
well  settled,  for  she  is  over-impulsive  and  filled  with 
romance.  You  are  a  Tory  and  will  fare  well  when  the  patriots 
are  punished,  as  they  doubtless  will  be.  Why  should  you  not 
marry  the  child?  'Twould  be  a  most  excellent  arrangement. 

JUDGE.  Marry  Betty  !  Impossible  !  How  can  you  suggest 
such  a  thing  ?  The  girl  would  not  abide  one  old  enough  to  be 
her  father.  Besides,  there  is  an  obstacle. 

Miss  B.     An  obstacle  !     Pray  what  ? 

JUDGE.  Yourself,  Lavinia.  My  heart  is  still  yours  though 
you  cruelly  condemn  me  to  single  living.  I  am  ever  hoping 
that  you  may  reconsider  your  decision. 

Miss  B.  Say  no  more,  Stephen.  I  thought  the  old  flame 
had  died  for  lack  of  fuel.  I  like  you  well  in  friendship,  but  as 
I  have  declared,  I  will  not  be  at  the  bidding  of  any  man.  i 
will  not. 

JUDGE  (sadly).  As  you  will,  Lavinia.  But  if  you  consent 
not  to  my  happiness,  at  least  do  not  mar  Betty's.  She  and 
young  William  Dickinson  are  lovers.  He  is  a  fine,  upright 
youth.  Let  her  marry  where  she  will. 

Miss  B.  (horrified).  What?  Betty  philandering  with 
William  Dickinson  !  The  sly  minx  !  She  shall  never  marry 
any  Dickinson,  however  "  upright"  he  be. 

Enter  MANDY  at  L.,  much  excited,  carrying  carpet-bag  and 

bundles. 

MANDY.  Oh,  missy,  missy  !  De  Britishers  is  comin'  !  I'se 
all  ready  to  run  ! 

Miss  B.     Hush,  stupid  !     They  will  not  come  here. 

[  Exit  MANDY,  running  from  L.  to  R. 

JUDGE  (moving  toward  door  at  R.).  Good-night,  Lavinia. 
Is  there  never  to  be  hope  for  me  ? 

(He  takes  her  hand.) 

Miss  B.  {positively).  Stephen  Ingram,  I  have  declared  I 
will  never  marry,  and  I  am  not  the  sort  to  break  my  word. 


IO  LOVE    AND    TEA 

(Listens.}    List !     There  are  the  drums.     Let  us  go  view  the 
uiinutemen.  [Exeunt. 

Enter  MANDY  excitedly  from  L.,  with  bundles.  She  runs  to 
window  and  looks  out.  Then  sees  tea  table  with  remains 
of  the  tea-drinking.  She  peers  about  to  see  if  the  coast  is 
clear,  then  drinks  tea  left  in  the  cups  and  teapot,  eats  cakes. 

MANDY.     Might  as  well  eat  dis  'fore  de  Britishers  gets  it. 
Enter  BETTY.     TsliA.yn>\  jumps  guiltily  away  from  the  table. 

BETTY.  Oh,  Mandy !  The  minutemen  are  summoned. 
William  must  go.  What  if  he  should  be  shot — killed  !  (She 
covers  her  face  with  her  hands.  The  knocker  sounds,  MANDY 
answers  it,  R.,  and  ushers  in  WILLIAM  DICKINSON.  BETTY 
runs  to  meet  him.  MANDY  exits  at  L.)  William  !  William  ! 
1  feared  I  should  not  see  you  before  your  leaving.  Never  did 
1  dream  that  matters  would  come  to  war.  'Tis  dreadful ! 

(She  weeps.) 

WILL.  Nay,  nay,  Betty.  'Tis  not  dreadful,  'tis  glorious  to 
fight  for  our  independence.  Your  tears  are  unseemly.  Come, 
look  up.  I  have  brought  you  a  keepsake.  (Takes  a  string 
of  gold  beads  from  his  pocket.  BETTY  smiles  through  her  tears.) 
When  last  I  was  in  Boston  these  confronted  me  in  a  goldsmith's 
window  and  straightway  I  had  a  vision  of  them  about  your  fair 
neck.  Let  me  see  the  reality. 

(He  puts  the  beads  around  her  neck  and  embraces  her.) 

BETTY.  I  thank  you,  William.  I  will  ever  wear  them 
hidden  thus  (tucking  them  under  her  kerchief)  with  thoughts 
of  you  when  you  are  far  away.  Would  that  there  were  no 
need  for  you  to  go. 

WILL.  But  there  is  need,  and  I  go  gladly  if  I  go  with  your 
promise  to  wed  me  some  time. 

BETTY.     But  my  aunt 

WILL.  I  know  you  have  ever  put  me  off  because  of  your 
aunt's  disrelish  for  my  family.  But  now,  dear  Betty,  give  me 
this  comfort  as  I  leave.  Do  you  not  love  me? 

BETTY.  Indeed  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart,  William,  yet 
I  cannot  promise  without  aunt's  consent.  She  has  been  father 
and  mother  to  me  since  I  was  an  infant  child.  'Twould  not 
be  right. 


LOVE    AND    TEA  II 

WILL,  (impatiently).  You  will  not  promise  without  her 
consent  and  you  forbid  me  to  ask  it  as  she  will  of  a  surety  say 
"  No."  Then  it  lies  with  you  to  obtain  it  by  fair  means  or  foul. 

BETTY  {firmly}.  William,  I  will  do  my  best  to  obtain  it 
even  by  craft. 

Enter  Miss  B.  unobserved.     She  listens. 

WILL.  Craft  would  be  fair  enough.  She  cannot  appreciate 
true  affection.  A  woman  who  has  flouted  one  of  the  best  men 
in  the  world  and  yet  doth  keep  him  dangling  !  Bah  !  If  he 
were  not  a  saint  he  would  betake  himself  to  another  woman 
and  be  happy.  Betty,  I  love  you  better  than  anything  in  life 
save  honor,  but  I  will  not  be  put  off  like  Judge  Ingram.  I 
swear  that  I  will  wed  you  e'en  though  a  dozen  frozen-hearted 
spinsters  barred  my  way. 

Miss  B.  Highty-tighty,  young  man  !  By  what  right  do 
you  embrace  my  niece  ? 

(The  lovers  start  apart.} 

WILL.  By  the  right  of  the  great  affection  between  her  and 
me,  madam.  I  duly  crave  your  permission  to  marry  her. 

Miss  B.  (coldly).  You  are  a  Dickinson.  That  permission 
you  will  never  have. 

WILL.  If  there  is  naught  against  me  save  my  name,  I  beg 
of  you  to  reconsider  your  decision. 

Miss  B.  {positively).  Nay,  my  mind  is  made  up  on  that 
point. 

(Sound  of  drums.) 

WILL.  'Tis  the  last  call;  I  must  go..  Farewell,  Betty. 
(He  gathers  her  in  his  arms  before  Miss  B.  can  come  between 
them.')  Miss  Boltwood,  I  am  resolved  to  wed  your  niece  with 
your  permission  or — without  it !  \_Exit. 

(BETTY  runs  to  the  window?) 

Miss  B.  Betty  Boltwood,  I  am  amazed  that  you  should 
permit  yourself  to  become  interested  in  a  Dickinson  !  I  forbid 
you  to  receive  this  presumptuous  young  man  again. 

(BETTY  begins  to  wave  her  handkerchief  at  the  window. 
Her  aunt  snatches  it  from  her  hand.  They  both  stand 
at  the  window  watcliing  the  minutemen.} 

CURTAIN 


ACT  II 

SCENE. — The  same.  A  fire  is  on  the  hearth,  the  cat  by  the 
fire.  The  window  is  open  and  the  roses  are  seen  climbing 
near  the  sill.  Jt  is  an  afternoon  in  June  not  long  after  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill. 

(As  the  curtain  rises,  enter  Miss  B.  She  is  in  summer 
dress.  She  carries  a  reticule  or  bag.  She  goes  to  floor 
at  L.) 

Miss  B.     Mandy  ! 

MANDY  (appearing  in  door).     Yes,  missy. 
Miss  B.     Fetch  me  the  parcel  of  old  linen.     We  roll  band- 
ages this  afternoon  for  those  wounded  at  Bunker  Hill. 

[Exit  MANDY. 

(Miss  B.  sits  down,  takes  the  cat  in  her  lap.     She  sighs.) 

MANDY  (entering  with  a  roll  of  linen  in  her  hand).  Here's 
de  linen  for  de  poor  boys  in  Bos'on.  Dis  war  am  dreadful. 
All  de  mens  gettin'  killed  and  all  de  rest  of  us  goin'  vvidout 
tea  !  Isn't  you  hankerin'  for  jus'  a  leetle  tea,  missy? 

Miss  B.  (looking  embarrassed}.  Why — why  Oh,  stop 

your  chattering,  Mandy  ! 

(The  knocker  sounds.  MANDY  exits  and  returns  with  a 
letter.) 

MANDY.     De  post  left  dis  letter,  missy. 

(Miss  B.  opens  letter,  reads,  looks  thoughtful.  MANDY 
gazes,  all  curiosity.') 

Miss  B.     'Tis  from  Judge  Ingram  at  Boston. 

MANDY.  Glory  !  Glory  !  De  Judge  am  fighting  de 
Britishers ! 

Miss  B.  Stupid  !  You  know  the  Judge  is  a  Tory.  I  sent 
him  to  Boston  to  arrange  my  affairs  in  case  I  should  return  to 
England.  He  says  (taking  up  the  letter)  that  he  is  attending  on 
young  Dickinson  who  was  badly  wounded  at  Bunker  Hill — • 

12 


LOVE    AND   TEA  13 

while  bearing  the  colors  at  the  head  of  his  company.  Humph  ! 
He  doth  not  lack  bravery,  'twould  seem.  The  Judge  requests 
me  to  send  word  to  the  young  man's  mother.  Perchance 
neighbor  Kellogg's  boy  would  bear  the  message  to  Mrs.  Dickin- 
son. I  will  go  and  see. 

{Exit  Miss  B.,  at  K.,  leaving  letter  on  the  table.     MANDY 
exits  at  L.) 

Enter  BETTY  with  knitting.    Sits  by  the  window  which  is  open. 
She  takes  the  cat  and  lifts  it  to  the  sill. 

BETTY.  Smell  the  roses,  Salem.  How  sweet  they  be.  You 
are  a  wise  pussy ;  tell  me  if  William  has  the  rose  and  the  letter 
I  sent  him  some  days  since.  The  post  is  so  tardy  these  days. 
{Puts  down  cat;  rises  and  goes  to  the  mirror;  pulls  beads 
from  their  hiding-place  under  her  kerchief ;  arranges  them 
around  her  neck.}  'Tis  a  pity  I  cannot  wear  William's  keep- 
sake openly.  The  beads  become  me  well. 

Enter  MANDY  and  BETTY  forgets  to  hide  the  beads.     MANDY 
brings  in  the  teakettle  and  hangs  it  on  the  crane. 

MANDY.  Oh,  missy,  missy  !  You'  William  Dickinson  am 
shot ! 

(BETTY   screams    and  falls   back   horror-struck,    then   seizes 
MANDY  by  the  arm.) 

BETTY.     Not  killed  !     Tell  me  instantly  ! 

MANDY.  He  am  mortally  wounded  but  will  recover.  De 
Judge  say  so  in  dat  letter.  {Points  to  letter  on  table.  BETTY 
ft"'zes  letter  and  begins  to  read.  MANDY  is  horrified  that  she 
should  read  her  aunf  s  letter.}  Oh,  missy,  missy!  You1  aunt 
\vould  scalp  you  did  she  catch  you  readin'  her  letter.  She 
mos'  awful  'ticular  'bout  her  letters. 

BETTY  {with  a  cry).  This  letter  has  been  on  the  way  ten 
days  !  William  may  be  dead  for  aught  we  know. 

MANDY  {looking  out  the  window).  Lawsy,  here's  Missy 
Boltwood  comin'  now.  She'll  see  you  readin'  her  letter ! 
Guess  Mandy  better  be  in  de  kitchen  ! 

(MANDY  runs  out  at  L.     BETTY  drops  down  behind  the  high 
chair.) 

Enter  Miss  B. ;  takes  up  letter  again  ;  reads  it  aloud  thought- 
fully. 


!4  LOVE    AND   TEA 

Miss  B.  "  The  courage  and  patriotism  of  the  men  have  so 
infected  me  that  I  am  convinced  at  last.  In  fact  I  have  already 
forsworn  my  allegiance  to  the  king  and  have  enlisted  in  the 
army  of  the  patriots."  (She  meditates  ;  takes  cat  in  her  lap  as 
she  still  holds  the  letter.}  Stephen  Ingram,  you  are  a  fool  to 
change  opinions  at  your  time  of  life.  And  yet  even  I  cannot 
but  admire  the  devotion  of  the  patriots  to  their  cause;  the 
cause,  too,  is  a  just  one.  I  am  minded  to  embrace  it  instead  of 
being  but  an  onlooker.  (She  leans  back  wearily.}  Hum,  hum. 
I  feel  the  need  of  my  tea.  (She  goes  to  door  at  L.  and  listens, 
then  to  door  at  R.  She  takes  a  key  from  a  hiding-place  and 
unlocks  the  chimney  cupboard,  brings  out  a  little  teapot,  caddy, 
cup  and  saucer.  She  makes  herself  a  cup  of  tea  -with  the  water 
in  the  kettle  and  drinks  the  tea.  BETTY  watches  her  from  her 
hiding-place,  and  MANDY  also  puts  in  her  head  and  sees  with 
amazement.  Her  eyes  pop  out.  When  Miss  B.  rises  to  put 
the  things  away,  MANDY  hastily  withdraws  and  BETTY  hides 
again.}  There,  Salem,  I  feel  better  for  my  Bohea,  but  what  a 
scandal  'twould  make  did  the  "  Boltwood  Band  "  know  of  my 
daily  deceit.  But  you  are  my  only  confidant,  Salem,  and  I 
know  I  can  trust  your  discretion.  (She  rises ;  takes  reticule 
preparing  to  go  out.  Steps  toward  L.  MANDY  can  be  heard 
falling  backward  and  exclaiming  "Oh,  lawsy  !  ")  Mandy  ! 

MANDY.     Yes,  missy. 

Miss  B.  Come  now  into  the  garden  and  pick  all  the  roses 
that  are  overblown.  To-morrow  I  make  the  rose  conserve.  I 
will  show  you  the  blossoms  I  have  in  mind. 

MANDY.     Yes,  Missy  Boltwood. 

(They  exeunt  at  R.  As  soon  as  they  are  gone  BETTY  comes 
from  her  hiding-place.  She  takes  the  key  and  unlocks  the 
cupboard,  smells  of  the  teapot  and  says  "  Tea/"  Then 
she  locks  the  cupboard  again  and  is  about  to  steal  out  at  R. 
when  Miss  B.  reenters  at  R.  She  looks  sharply  at  BETTY 
and  perceives  the  beads.} 

Miss  B.     Betty,  where  got  you  those  beads  ? 

BETTY  (confused  and  trying  to  conceal  them}.  What — what 
beads,  aunt? 

Miss  B.  Do  not  attempt  deceit  with  me.  You  know  well 
what  I  mean.  The  gold  beads  about  your  neck;  who  gave 
you  them  ? 

BETTY  (with  courage}.  They  are  a  keepsake  from  William 
Dickinson.  I  pray  you,  aunt,  be  not  displeased. 


LOVE    AND   TEA  15 

Miss  B.  (sharply).  Give  them  to  me.  'Tis  not  seemly  for 
maidens  to  receive  trinkets  from  young  men.  Come,  undo 
them. 

BETTY.  Nay,  aunt,  I  will  not.  I  promised  to  wear  them 
always  and  I  will  not  take  them  off,  e'en  at  your  command. 

Miss  B.  Well,  then,  I  will  take  them  off  for  you.  (Miss  B. 
unclasps  the  beads  after  some  resistance  on  BETTY'S  part. 
They  fall  to  the  floor.  BETTY  snatches  them  up  and  throws 
them  out  of  the  window.  She  and  her  aunt  gaze  at  each  other 
titfiantly.  Miss  B.  goes  to  the  window.')  Mandy,  quick,  bring 
me  the  beads  that  Miss  Betty  threw  from  the  window  just  now. 

MANDY  (heard  from  outside).     Yes,  missy. 

Miss  B.  (angrily).  Your  conduct  is  disgraceful,  miss. 
Know  you  not  'tis  wicked  to  disobey  and  flout  your  elders? 
From  this  moment  I  forbid  you  to  ever  see  or  communicate 
with  this  Dickinson  again.  I  shall  restore  him  the  beads,  and 
when  I  journey  to  England,  you  will  accompany  me.  Do  you 
hear  ?  Now  go  to  your  chamber  and  meditate  on  your  mis- 
conduct. 

BETTY.  Nay,  aunt,  I  will  not  give  William  up ;  I  love  him. 
You  may  be  cruel  and  dangle  your  lover  for  a  lifetime,  but  I 
will  marry  mine,  and  you  shall  grant  me  your  permission. 

Miss  B.  I  grant  my  permission  !  Never  !  I  do  not  break 
my  word,  miss. 

BETTY  (scornfully).  Ah,  do  you  not?  Who,  pray,  has 
been  drinking  tea  daily  while  pretending  to  deny  herself?  I 
beheld  you  with  my  own  eyes  take  your  little  teapot  from  the 
locked  cupboard  !  'Twould  make  a  pretty  story  did  I  tell  it. 
And  I  warn  you,  if  you  do  not  grant  your  permission  to  Will- 
iam and  me,  I  will  publish  the  secret  tea-drinking.  The  town 
shall  ring  with  it ! 

Enter  MANDY. 

MANDY.     Can't  fin'  no  gol'  beads,  missy,  nowhere. 

Miss  B.     Stupid  !     Did  you  search  under  the  window  ? 

MANDY.  Poor  ol'  Mandy  crawl  all  ober  de  groun'.  No 
beads  dere. 

Miss  B.  (suspiciously).  Methinks  you  may  admire  those 
beads.  Unroll  your  turban. 

MANDY.  'Fore  de  Lawd,  missy,  don'  'spicion  Mandy  o' 
dem  beads.  I  isn't  got  dem. 

(Miss  B.  looks  in  MANDY'S  turban.     She  takes  out  strange 


l6  LOVE    AND    TEA 

things  including  a  clay  pipe.     She  also  searches  MANDV'S 
pockets  and  her  dress  hem.    No  beads.    Miss  B.  is  angry.') 

Miss  B.  If  you  have  thieved  those  beads,  naught  can  save 
you  from  the  whipping-post,  hussy.  I  will  search  the  garden 
myself.  \Exit. 

BETTY  (confidentially).  Come,  Mandy.  Tell  me  where  my 
beads — tell  me  where  my  beads  are. 

MANDY  (excitedly').  May  de  debbil  carry  me  off,  Miss 
Betty,  if  I  ain't  tellin'  you  de  trufe.  I  don'  know  where  dose 
beads  is.  But  I  'vises  you  to  watch  you'  aunt  in  de  garden. 
If  she  finds  dem 

BETTY.     True.     I  will  be  there  to  see.  [Exit. 

(MANDY  wanders  about  the  room  in  some  excitement.  She 
does  a  song  and  dance  ;  anything  appropriate  to  the  period. 
Suddenly  an  idea  strikes  her.  She  goes  to  the  hiding-place 
of  the  key,  unlocks  the  cupboard,  takes  out  the  teapot  and 
makes  tea,  drinks  it  with  an  exaggerated  imitation  of  her 
mistress'  manner,  looking  about  nervously  all  the  time.') 

MANDY.  Dat  am  de  stuff,  sure.  Missy  drink  tea,  Mandy 
drink  tea  too.  No  one  see  me  'cept  dat  black  witch-cat !  He 
can't  tell.  (Sound  of  the  knocker.}  Lawsy  !  Some  one's  at  de 
door  !  (She  grabs  the  tea  things  and  slams  them  into  the  cup- 
board, locks  it  and  hides  the  key.  She  then  exits  at  R.  She 
returns  with  Mus.  S.  and  MRS.  C.)  Please  seat  you'selves, 
ladies,  while  I  tells  Missy  Bolt  wood  you  is  here.  \_Exit  at  R. 

MRS.  C.  'Tis  best  that  friends  should  break  her  the  un- 
happy news,  not  any  chance  comer.  Think  you  not  so? 

MRS.  S.  Truly.  A  privilege  of  friendship  is  to  report  the 
disagreeable.  I  wonder  how  she  will  relish  such  tidings  ? 
Stephen  Ingram  was  always  a  near  friend  to  her,  though  'twould 
take  a  Solomon  to  tell  whether  she  cared  aught  for  him. 

Enter  Miss  B. 
Miss  B.     Good-afternoon,  neighbors. 

A/TRC     f"     1 

M  <•'  S   \(toSfther)-     Good-afternoon,  Miss  Boltwood. 

MRS.  C.  We  trust  we  see  you  well  and — and — of  good  for- 
titude. Mayhap  you  will  need  it. 

MRS.  S.  (eagerly).  Prepare  yourself  for  sad  news ;  very  sad 
news,  my  dear  Miss  Boltwood.  Judge  Ingram — you  are  aware 
that  he  but  lately  joined  our  army. 


LOVE    AND    TEA  I 7 

Miss  B.     I  pray  you  go  on  ! 

MRS.  C.  The  report  has  but  now  come  that  he  has  been 
discovered  in  communication  with  the  British. 

MRS.  S.  And  that  he  has  been  arrested  and  will  be  exe- 
cuted as  a  spy  ! 

Miss  B.  (incredulously}.  Stephen  Ingram  a  spy  !  Impos- 
sible !  It  is  not  true. 

MRS.  C.  His  conversion  to  patriotism  was  very  sudden,  my 
dear  Miss  Boltwood,  and  all  know  his  Tory  beliefs. 

MRS.  S.  You  have  our  deepest  sympathy  in  that  an  old, 
and,  mayhap,  a  dear  friend  has  proved  unworthy.  True,  he 
was  a  kind,  agreeable  man,  but  he  was  far  too  easily  influenced, 
as  you  well  know  yourself. 

Miss  B.  (rising  in  indignation}.  Ladies,  I  will  not  hear 
Stephen  Ingrain  traduced.  I  care  not  what  reports  are  rife ;  I 
know  the  man.  He  would  never  do  aught  dishonorable.  He 
may  be  of  a  yielding  disposition,  but  his  principles  are  ada- 
mant ! 

Enter  BETTY.     She  looks  in  surprise  at  her  aunt  and  guests. 

MRS.  S.  (inaliciously).  Miss  Betty,  your  aunt  is  deeply 
concerned  over  the  downfall  of  Judge  Ingram.  The  whole 
town  is  buzzing  with  the  news.  It  seems  the  Judge  joined  the 
patriot  army  but  to  furnish  information  to  the  British.  He  has 
been  discovered  and  is  to  be  executed  as  a  spy  ! 

(BETTY  springs  to  her  aunt's  side  and  puts  her  arms  around 
her.) 

BETTY.  Dear  aunt,  'tis  a  false  charge — I  know  it.  They 
would  not  execute  an  innocent  man. 

(Miss  B.  sinks  into  a  chair  as  if  about  to  faint.  BETTY  runs 
and  gets  wine.  MRS.  C.  rushes  to  the  fireplace,  seizes  a 
turkey  wing  and  burns  it,  then  holds  it  under  Miss  B.'s 
nose.  She  waves  aside  wine  and  feathers.") 

MRS.  C.     Burnt  feathers  are  so  reviving  ! 

Miss  B.  (recovering).  I  want  no  wine,  or  sympathy,  so 
called.  If  my  best  friend  is  unjustly  accused,  I  will  journey  to 
Boston  and  see  him  righted.  Methinks  I  have  some  influence 
on  both  sides  of  this  quarrel. 

(MRS.  S.  and  MRS.  C.  look  at  one  another.) 


1 8  LOVE    AND   TEA 

MRS.  C.  (aside).  'Tis  best  to  go  now.  Miss  Boltwood, 
pray  call  on  us  if  we  can  be  of  any  assistance. 

MRS.  S.  (spitefully).  Mayhap  you  would  prefer  solitude  foi 
the  recovery  of  your  equanimity. 

[Exeunt  MRS.  S.  and  MRS.  C. 

BETTY.  Pray,  aunt,  let  us  go  immediately  to  Boston. 
Every  minute  may  be  precious. 

Miss  B.  Betty,  I  am  deeply  grateful  for  your  belief  in  Judge 
Ingram. 

Enter  MANDY  with  Mus.  A.  MANDY  carries  a  basket  into 
which  she  has  been  picking  the  roses.  She  looks  curiously 
at  Miss  B.,  as  she  observes  her  agitation.  MRS.  A.  takes 
Miss  B.'s  hand  affectionately. 

MRS.  A.  My  dear  friend,  1  have  just  heard  the  news  con- 
cerning Judge  Ingram.  Surely  there  is  some  awful  misappre- 
hension. No  one  who  knows  him  could,  for  a  minute,  be- 
lieve him  a  spy  for  the  British. 

Miss  B.  (still holding  MRS.  A.  's  hand).  I  thank  you  for  those 
words.  There  is  some  grave  mistake.  For  fear  that  he  may — 

may  be  executed  before  others  can  clear  him (Turns  to 

MANDY,  who  stands  with  open  mouth,  and  speaks  sharply.) 
Mandy  !  Run  to  Clapp's  Tavern  and  reserve  two  seats  on  the 
Boston  coach  to-night.  Here,  pay  for  them  with  this  guinea. 

(Gives  MANDY  gold  from  her  side  pocket.  MANDY  exits  in 
haste.) 

MRS.  A.  Take  my  prayers  and  my  good  wishes  with  you, 
Miss  Boltwood.  If  I  can  be  of  service  in  any  way,  pray  let  me 
know.  [Exit. 

Miss  B.  Come,  Betty,  let  us  make  haste  to  prepare  for  the 
journey.  [Exeunt. 

(For  a  moment  the  stage  is  empty.  There  is  the  sound  of  a 
knocker.  No  one  responds.  The  knocker  sounds  again. 
After  a  time  JUDGE,  /'//  the  uniform  of  a  minuteman,  en- 
ters  supporting  WILL.,  who  has  his  arm  in  a  sling.~) 

JUDGE.  There  seems  to  be  no  one  at  home,  William,  but 
you  must  rest  before  going  on  to  your  own  house.  Mayhap 
the  ladies  will  return  soon. 

WILL,  (sinking  back  wearily  in  the  great  chair  ;  he  is  white 
and  weak).  'Twas  most  kind  of  you,  sir,  to  bring  me  home. 


LOVE    AND    TEA  ig 

I  do  not  think  I  could  have  journeyed  so  far  unaided.     Yet 
you  are  needed  in  the  army. 

JUDGE.  I  shall  return  immediately.  {Enter  MANDY  in 
haste.)  Ah,  here  is  the  wench.  How  are  your  mistresses, 
Mandy  ? 

(MANDY  falls  back  amazed  and  gazes  at  JUDGE  with  rolling 
eyes.  She  slowly  backs  into  a  corner  and  does  not  take 
her  eyes  from  him. ) 

MANDY.  Is  you  a  ghos',  sir?  I  heard  de  ladies  say  you 
was  executioned.  Please,  Mr.  Ghos' 

JUDGE  (laughing}.  Nonsense,  Mandy.  1  am  true  flesh 
and  blood.  How  fares  Miss  Boltwood  ? 

WILL.     How  is  Miss  Betty  ? 

MANDY.  Dey  is  all  well,  sir.  Dat  is,  dey  is  feelin'  awful 
bad  dat  you  is  executioned.  On  dat  account  dey  is  startin'  on 
de  coach  to-night  for  Bos' on,  sir. 

WILL.     What  does  she  mean  ? 

JUDGE.     Executed  !     What  tale  is  this  ? 

MANDY.  De  tale  dat  you  is  executioned  as  a  spy,  sir,  for  de 
Britishers.  Missy  Boltwood  she  say  dat  am  a  lie,  an'  she  goin' 
to  save  you,  sir. 

JUDGE.     Bless  her  for  her  faith  in  me. 

WILL.  And  does  Miss  Boltwood — er — er — is  she  still  disap- 
proving of  me  ? 

MANDY  (cheerfully).  Oh,  yes,  sir.  She  powerful  mad  when 
she  see  dem  beads  on  Miss  Betty's  neck.  And  when  she 
frowed  dem  out  de  window 

WILL.     Who  ?     Not  Miss  Betty  ? 

MANDY.  Oh,  yes,  sir.  She  got  mad,  too,  an'  frowed  de 
lovely  beads  out  de  window.  We  ain't  never  found  dem, 
neider,  sir. 

(WiLL.  looks  much  cast  down.) 

Enter  Miss  B.  and  BETTY  with  bandboxes  and  bags.  They 
wear  bonnets.  They  stare  dumbfounded  at  the  JUDGE 
and  WILL. 

Miss  B.  (going  to  JUDGE  at  L.).  Stephen  Ingram,  thank 
God! 

(They  clasp  hands.) 

BETTY  (flying  to  the  side  of  WILL.).  Oh,  William  !  (He 
tries  to  rise,  but  sinks  back.)  Your  wound,  how  fares  it? 


2O  LOVE    AND   TEA 

(She  hangs  over  him  and  MANDY  brings  pillows.} 

JUDGE  (laughing'}.  Do  I  look  like  a  man  about  to  be  exe- 
cuted, Lavinia?  Mandy  has  told  us  of  the  false  report. 

Miss  B.     '  Twas  false  !     I  knew  it !     But  how — why 

JUDGE.  Another  Ingram,  but  not  from  Hartfield,  was  the 
spy.  He  has  met  his  punishment  ere  this,  poor  fellow. 

BETTY.  Aunt  Lavinia,  William  craves  the  fresh  air.  May 
we  go  into  the  garden  ? 

Miss  B.   (absently).     Yes,  child. 

[Exit  WILL.,  leaning  on  BETTY,  at  R. 

JUDGE.  Lavinia,  I  could  not  be  a  traitor  to  the  patriot 
cause,  for  I  am  with  it  heart  and  soul.  Your  example  did  help 
te  win  me  over. 

Miss  B.     Mine  ?     How  so  ? 

JUDGE.  When  you  practiced  such  self-denial  and  gave  up 
youy  tea.  (Playfully.}  I  knew  you  were  wedded  to  it. 

.  Miss  B.  (humbly}.  Oh,  Stephen,  you  shame  me.  I  did 
liot  keep  my  vow.  I  confess  I  have  been  drinking  tea  in 
secret.  The  habit  was  too  strong  for  me.  But  now  your 
patriotism  has  kindled  mine.  I,  too,  adop,t  the  patriot  cause. 
To  it  I  will  give  myself  and  all  I  have,  even  my  tea  !  Look  ! 
I  break  the  pot  in  token  that  I  break  the  habit. 

(She  takes  the  teapot  from  the  cupboard  and  is  about  to  shat- 
ter it  on  the  hearth  when  MANDY  springs  forward.} 

MANDY.  Oh,  missy,  don'  smash  de  little  teapot !  Give  it 
to  old  Mandy. 

(She  holds  out  her  hands  for  it.     Miss  B.  puts  the  pot  into 
them.     MANDY  clasps  it  to  her  breast.} 

Miss  B.  Well,  take  it  and  get  you  to  the  kitchen.  You  can 
brew  naught  but  "Liberty  Tea"  in  it  now. 

(MANDY  starts  to  go  but  is  loath  to  lose  any  of  the  conversa- 
tion, so  lingers  by  the  door  at  L.) 

JUDGE.  Lavinia,  it  rejoices  me  that  you  so  heartily  embrace 
the  glorious  cause  of  independence.  "f  is  noble 

Miss  B.  Say  not  so,  Stephen.  You  must,  in  your  heart, 
despise  me  for  my  weakness. 

JUDGE.  Despise  you  !  I  could  not.  Come,  tell  me.  Were 
you  about  to  journey  to  Boston  in  my  behalf? 


LOVE    AND   TEA  21 

Miss  B.  Yes,  I  had  so  purposed.  I  would  have  wrested 
you  from  prison  and  execution,  if  need  be  ! 

JUDGE.     What  a  friend  you  are,  Lavinia  ! 

Miss  B.  (looking  at  him  tenderly}.  1  have  but  now  learned 
your  worth  to  me,  Stephen. 

JUDGE.  And  I  yours.  Our  friendship  shall  endure  while 
life  lasts.  'Tis  above  passion. 

Miss  B.  {faintly}.     Yes,  Stephen. 

JUDGE.  I  see  now  how  exalted  is  our  relation.  'Tis  an 
ideal. 

Miss  B.   (downcast}.     True,  'tis  an  ideal — but 

JUDGE  (enthusiastically).  Dear  Lavinia,  you  have  shown 
me  how  earthly  are  mere  love  and  marriage  compared  to  this 
mating  of  our  souls.  Never  again  will  I  annoy  you  with 
words  of  love.  Such  friendship  is  all  1  ask  ! 

Miss  B.  (amazed,  then  indignant}.  Stephen,  I  care  not  for 
your  friendship ! 

JUDGE  (surprised}.     What  mean  you,  Lavinia? 

Miss  B.  (embarrassed,  yet  courageous}.  I  mean  that  I  know 
— now — that  I — I — love  you,  Stephen. 

JUDGE  (joyfully}.     Can  it  be  that  you  are  willing  to  wed  me  ? 

(Ht  con'.^s  war'-  and  lock*  tenderly  at  her.} 
Miss  B.     Yes,  Stephen. 

(He  takes  her  in  his  arms.     MANDV  looks  interested,  then 
glad.     At  this  point  she  exclaims.} 

MANDY.     Hurrroo ! 

Miss  B.  (sharply,  turning  about  toward  MANDY).  Mandy, 
why  are  you  still  here  ?  Go  into  the  garden  and  finish  the  rose 
gathering. 

MANDY.     Yes,  missy. 

(She  takes  basket  and  exits  at  L.  ,  still  clasping  the  teapot  to 
her  breast.} 

Enter  BETTY  and  WILL,  at  R. 

JUDGE  (looking  at  BETTY  and  WILL.  ).  Lavinia,  I  pr^y  you 
permit  the  young  people  to  be  as  happy  as  we  are.  Will  you 
not? 

Miss  B.  I  will,  at  your  bidding,  Stephen.  (She goes  toward 
them.}  Betty ! 

BETTY.     Yes,  aunt. 


22  LOVE    AND    TEA 

Enter  MANDY  excitedly,  holding  up  the  beads.     She  still  clasps 
the  teapot. 

MANDY.  Here's  de  gol'  beads,  missy.  Mandy  found  dem 
hangin*  on  de  rose-bush. 

(She  gives  the  beads  to  Miss  B.) 

Miss  B.  Good  Mandy.  You  shall  be  rewarded.  Here, 
Betty,  take  your  beads.  I  give  William  permission  to  put  them 
about  your  neck  with  my  blessing. 

BETTY  (joyfully}.     Oh,  thank  you,  aunt. 

(She  gives  the  beads  to  WILL.) 
WILL.     I  am  deeply  grateful,  Aunt  Lavinia. 

(He  clasps  the  beads  about  BETTY'S  neck  and  kisses  her. 
The  JUDGE  and  Miss  B.  stand  hand-in-hand  beaming  at 
them.  MANDY  gazes  joyfully  also,  still  clasping  the  tea- 
pot. She  turns  suddenly  to  the  cupboard  which  Miss  B. 
had  left  open,  and  seizes  the  tea-caddy.  With  this  in  one 
hand  and  the  pot  in  the  other,  she  cries.} 

MANDY.     Glory  !     Glory  i     Dey  has  love  and  I  has  tea ! 


CU.RTAIN 


BAKER'S  PLAYS  OF  DISTINCTION 

THE  HEART  OF  MAINE.  In  Three  Acts.  By 
Gladys  Ruth  Bridgham.  6  m.,  7  w.  2  easy  interior 
sets.  Plays  2  hours.  A  picturesque  story  of  the  Maine 
woods.  Jonathan  Blair  is  about  to  put  through  a  deal 
by  which  his  lumber  business  becomes  one  of  the  larg- 
est in  the  country.  The  son  of  a  former  enemy  and 
business  rival  claims  the  land  which  controls  the  Tuscgo 
stream  by  which  Jonathan  gets  his  lumber  out.  Jona- 
than's daughter,  Mehitable,  in  her  youth  was  secretly 
married  to  his  rival.  Through  fear  of  her  father,  she 
gives  her  infant  son  to  her  sister-in-law,  Marie.  Marie's 
husband  dies  and  because  of  her  hatred  of  the  family 
she  takes  the  boy  away  and  brings  him  up  as  her  own 
son.  By  the  terms  of  the  will,  the  boy  was  to  inherit 
an  interest  in  Jonathan's  business  if  when  eighteen 
years  old  he  would  place  himself  in  his  grandfather's 
hands  for  three  years.  On  his  eighteenth  birthday, 
Marie  brings  him  home  and  a  clash  ensues  between  the 
very  modern  youth  and  his  grandfather  who  lives  in 
the  past.  The  boy  proves  to  be  the  owner  of  the  land 
which  controls  the  Tuscgo  Stream,  thus  saving  his 
grandfather's  business.  In  the  end  he  wins  his  way  to 
the  old  man's  heart  and  is  restored  to  the  mother  who 
has  been  deprived  of  her  son  for  eighteen  years.  Roy- 
alty, $10.00.  Price,  35  Cents. 

WHEN  A  FELLER  NEEDS  A  FRIEND.  Farce  in 
Three  Acts.  By  J.  C.  McMullen.  5  m.,  5  w.  Scenery, 
a  single  easy  int.  Plays  a  full  evening.  Royalty,  $10.00. 
Tom  Denker  and  Bob  Mills,  trying  to  break  into  New 
York,  have  reached  the  point  where  their  furniture 
consists  of  soap  boxes,  their  diet  what  they  can  steal 
from  the  dog's  milk  and  the  parrot's  cracker,  and  where 
one  suit  between  them  is  the  best  they  can  do.  How 
they  climbed  out  of  these  social  depths  and  what  side- 
splitting complications  arose  from  their  efforts  to  do  so 
form  the  plot  of  a  mighty  funny  play  which  provides 
ten  parts  of  about  equal  opportunity  and  is  as  easy  to 
produce  as  it  is  effective.  Especially  for  high  school 
performance.  Price,  35  Cents. 


BAKER'S  PLAYS  OF  DISTINCTION 

CHEER  UP.  A  Comedy  of  Inspiration  in  Three 
Acts.  By  Walter  Ben  Hare.  6  m.,  9  w.  characters 
with  a  group  of  children.  Scenery,  2  easy  ints.,  or  i 
int.  and  one  farm-yard.  Although  there  is  no  senti- 
mental love  interest  in  the  play,  it  is  replete  with  com- 
edy and  dramatic  situations  and  tells  a  story  that  is 
lovable,  humorous,  whimsical  and  uplifting.  The  trials 
of  the  little  orphan  whose  baby  charge  is  adopted  by  a 
wealthy  lady  appeal  to  every  audience  and  the  comical 
vagaries  of  the  man-hating  cook  and  the  woman-hating 
yard-man  who  is  too  lazy  to  breathe  will  cause  gales 
of  laughter.  The  play  is  a  novelty  as  most  of  the  im- 
portant roles  are  played  by  boys  and  girls,  or  by  chil- 
dren impersonators,  making  it  an  ideal  offering  for 
expression  schools,  Sunday  Schools,  and  High  Schools. 
Mulligan  is  a  great  part  for  a  character  comedian,  but 
the  other  male  roles  are  relatively  short  and  easy  to 
play.  Annie,  the  little  orphan,  is  a  star  role  worthy  the 
talents  of  a  Mary  Pickford,  and  Sarah  Upshot,  the  pert 
little  Sue,  who  longs  for  "  leming  pie,"  Aunt  Mary  and 
Miss  Stone  are  exceptionally  well-defined  characters. 
Royalty,  $10.00.  Price,  50  Cents. 

GOOD-EVENING,  CLARICE.  By  J.  C.  McMullen. 
A  Farce  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  5  m.,  6  w.  Playing 
time,  approximately,  2  hours.  Costumes  of  the  present 
day.  Scene,  a  single  int.  Annette  Franklin,  a  jealous 
wife,  has  been  raising  a  little  domestic  war  over  her 
husband's  supposed  infatuation  for  a  noted  dancer, 
Clarice  de  Mauree.  How  Annette  was  proven  wrong 
in  her  supposition,  cured  of  her  jealousy,  and  found  her 
long-lost  parents,  makes  a  comedy  which,  while  easy 
of  production,  proves  very  effective  in  the  presenta- 
tion. The  part  of  Clarice,  the  dancer,  gives  the  oppor- 
tunity for  an  excellent  female  character  lead.  All  of 
the  other  parts  are  of  equal  importance  and  the  situa- 
tions fairly  radiate  comedy  and  swift  moving  action. 
Royalty,  $10.00  for  the  first  and  $5.00  for  each  sub- 
sequent performance.  Price,  50  Cents. 


TOP  LINERS— FOR  STUNT  NIGHT  AND  VOD-VIL 

By  Arthur  LeRoy  Kascr 

A  new  and  original  collection  of  "some  of  this  and  some  of 
that" — concocted  by  a  specialist  in  the  vaudeville  field,  for 
the  use  of  either  the  amateur  or  professional  entertainer.  The 
contents  include  four  hilarious  monologues — four  guaranteed 
success  one-act  vaudeville  skits — several  pages  of  street 
chatter,  including  many  rhymes  and  jingles — a  wealth  of 
minstrel  cross-fire  with  fill-in  bits  of  digs  and  jabs,  and  thirty- 
eight  stories  for  the  story  teller.  The  longer  sketches  as  well 
as  the  monologues  have  been  so  arranged  that  specialties  may 
easily  be  introduced.  The  shorter  articles  such  as  "Rhymes 
and  Jingles,"  "Street  Chatter,"  "The  Monolpgist^  and  His 
Newspaper."  etc.,  can  be  easily  used  as  insertions  in  almost 
any  form  or  monologue  or  cross-fire  talking  act.  The  minstrel 
cross-fire  is  of  the  modern  type  and  utilizable  wherever 
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many  times  the  price  to  the  director  who  is  in  search  of  stuff 
that  has  not  been  worn  threadbare.  Bound  in  attractive  art 
covers. 

Price,  75  cents. 

UNCLE  JOSH  STORIES  By  Cal  Stewart 

Cal  Stewart,  who  gave  to  millions  of  his  admirers  that 
kindly  old  rural  philosopher  and  humorist,  "Uncle  Josh,"  has 
"passed  over."  The  humor  of  Cal  Stewart  is  like  a  draft  of 
eweet  cool  air  in  a  hot,  stuffy  room.  For  years,  hearts  have 
been  made  lighter,  homes  have  been  made  happier,  and 
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promises  to  be  a  prolific  source  of  entertainment  to  millions 
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fashioned  humor  be  better  preserved.  "Uncle  Josh"  can  get 
into  more  pesky  predicaments  than  any  other  male  critter. 
Read  any  one  of  the  thirty  or  more  selections  and  we  guar- 
antee that  first  you'll  chuckle,  then  you'll  giggle,  then  you'll 
burst  into  a  big  laugh,  hearty  and  unashamed.  Stewart's 
knowledge  of  life,  which  he  so  humorously  portrays  in  these 
readings,  comes  from  his  varied  experiences  as  a  stage-coach 
driver,  a  locomotive  engineer,  and  an  actor.  His  philosophy 
of  life  is  "I'd  sooner  tell  Peter  on  the  last  day  about  the  lofts 
I've  given  folks  on  earth,  than  try  to  explain  about  givin'  them 
heart  akes."  Bound  in  substantial  art  covens  at  75  cents  per 
copy. 

Send  for  a  Copy  of  our  New  Free  Catalogue. 
It  Describes  More  Than  a  Thousand  Plays. 

BAKER'S  PLAYS,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


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parts  may  be  spoken.    The  first  opera  is  timely  in  view  of  the 
journalistic  interest  in  all  things  Egyptian.    Contents:   "A 

« 

Royal  Wooing,"  or  "The  Wedding  of  Tut-  Ankh-  Amen," 
"Abou  Hassan  the  Wag,"  "Pretty  Perilla,"  "Aladdin,"  "The 

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II 

Enchanted  Birds,"  "The  Statue  Prince."    To  our  customers 

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who  have  used  Mrs.  Richards  first  book?  "Eight  Fairy  Operas 
we  have  no  hesitancy  in  saying  that  this  present  volume  is  a 

5 

worthy  successor.          Price,  40  cents. 

s? 

N 

BAKER'S  PLAYS,  BOSTON,  MASS. 

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